


Dare You to Move

by PeppermintMermaid, RebbekkahMorningstar, WuvWinchesterHugs



Series: Blurred Lines [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Coming In Pants, Hurt Sam Winchester, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Making Love, Married Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Past Rape/Non-con, Post-Episode: s12e02 Mamma Mia, Psychological Trauma, Rape Recovery, Season/Series 12, Soulmates Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Traumatized Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-22
Updated: 2018-05-22
Packaged: 2019-05-10 02:33:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14728304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeppermintMermaid/pseuds/PeppermintMermaid, https://archiveofourown.org/users/RebbekkahMorningstar/pseuds/RebbekkahMorningstar, https://archiveofourown.org/users/WuvWinchesterHugs/pseuds/WuvWinchesterHugs
Summary: "None of that is true. Not one damn word. There isn’t anything that could ever make me stop loving you; nothing could ever make me stop wanting you."





	Dare You to Move

**Author's Note:**

> I've already slapped all the trigger warnings on this thing, but just in case, here's another one: There's a lot of talk about what happened to Sam in the basement in season 12, specifically the rape scene. If you have any triggers concerning this subject, I advise you to pass on this fic.

Sam sits alone in his room. Dean had helped him to his bed before taking off down the hall to get Sam a bottle of water and a sandwich. Dean would swear to the day he died that the sound that escaped his mouth when he saw Sam tied up, moments from death, didn't happen. He still doesn't know half of what his brother, soulmate, and husband had been through at the hands of that sadistic British bitch, and to be honest, he isn't even sure he could handle it.

Sam hangs his head in shame as he strips out of his cold, wet clothes and kicks them to the side. His cum is still wet and cold against his skin, staining his underwear. To him, the fact that it's there at all is a very valid excuse to feel less than worthy of living. He sits on the bed, placing his hand over the offending stain. He had cheated on Dean, and for that sin alone he knew he'd be forced to suffer. Dean has proven over and over again that ever since they got married, Sam is it for him. Now, he's about to find out that Sam, his Sammy, his husband, the very same man he'd pledged his life and soul to, slept with that woman. 

Dean walks back into the room to see Sam sitting mostly naked on his bed, head rested in his hands, shoulders shaking with silent tears. He rushes to Sam's side, kneeling on the floor in front of Sam.

“Sammy, what's wrong?"  
Dean tries to get Sam to lift his head, to look at his brother. When Sam turns away from Dean, his sobbing escalates into full-blown crying, his hand moving away for the wet spot in the groin area of his boxers he was covering.

Dean notices the stain, frowning in confusion. He looks up at Sam. "Baby, You have to talk to me. What's going on?" he begs his husband.

Sam can't even attempt to get any words out through his sobs, and Dean's concern, if possible, deepens. Dean lets his fingers brush over Sam's boxers, finding the cold, wet stain starting to stiffen the material. Dean immediately knows it isn't water, and he's praying it isn't what he knows it is.  
Dean's jaw hardens, anger becoming clear in his features as his heart just shatters. Dean's entire body goes rigid as he fights with himself, wanting to get far away from his soulmate and holding Sam as close as he can, to comfort him, because he’s obviously panicking over what that stain means.

Sam's tears come harder, his breathing close to hyperventilating when he sees the immediate change to his husband's face and demeanor.

Sam reaches out, holding Dean's wrist tightly. "I'm...sorry!" he gasps, panicked, fearing the distance his brother will put between them out of the hurt and anger he’s more than entitled to. "I'm so, so sorry." 

Dean stands, reluctantly pulling out of his brother's hold; holding on for dear life to anger because he refuses to give into the heartbreak.

"What happened?" Dean demands, brow drawn, eyes expressing anger better than any words he could have tried to say. But right now, he needs to know what would cause his husband, his Sammy, to betray his trust and love, after everything.

"T-toni. She... she gave me something, I don't know what, but it was like a dream, a vivid one. It felt so real, Dean.” Sam stammers, shame creeping into his voice. “We were in bed, we...we were intimate. But I swear, I would never, ever cheat on you.” he says, looking down at his lap in shame, tears falling as he goes on, “I was tricked. I...I knew it was wrong but I didn't know why. She made me think we were...real,” Sam says, pained. “When I came out of it, she said I belonged to her now; I'm damaged goods, and even if you found me you wouldn't want me anymore.” He says, his voice cracking, devastated that what Toni said could be coming true right before his eyes, with every word he speaks.

Dean’s face softens in relief, and his anger immediately shifts to the British bitch. Sammy didn't betray him. The bitch made him do it. Dean's even willing to bet that the drug was physically preventing him from remembering him and their marriage. If it's the last thing he does, he will make her pay for this.

Dean kneels back down in front of Sam, taking his hands firmly. “That bitch lied, Sammy. None of that is true. Not one damn word.”

Sam looks at him, teary-eyed and hopeful, wanting to believe Dean's words so, so badly.

“There isn’t anything that could ever make me stop loving you; nothing could ever make me stop wanting you,” Dean says firmly. “Yes, it hurt to think you'd cheated on me, but I could never walk away from you. I wouldn't even know how.”

Sam gives him a small smile before it crumbles into tears again. “That's not good enough. We're soulmates, Dean. Ever since we got married, how I am with you is unlike anything I've ever felt before. I knew something was off the second she touched me like that, and I still slept with her.” he says miserably.

Dean sits down next to Sam, pulling him close. “Shut up, Sam. She messed with your head. There's no way you, or anyone, could have fought that,” he says seriously. “But the fact that you believed I was dead, endured all that torture and still kept fighting her, it all just makes me love you even more, if that's even possible.” He caresses Sam’s face, rubbing away stray tears with his thumb. “You listen, and listen good, Sammy. You were raped." Sam flinches, trying to turn away from the word, but Dean just holds him there, insisting, "No, Sammy. Call it what it is. That bitch crawled into your mind, without your consent, and made you forget your own soulmate. I won't hold that against you. Ever.”

Sam nods, feeling a little better, now knowing his husband doesn’t blame him and so happy he doesn’t have to worry about Dean leaving him.

“Now come on. I'm gonna clean you up, then we'll see if I can figure out a way to remind you how much I love you.” Dean says, standing up and walking out of the room. He goes the bathroom across the hall to grab a washcloth. He runs the flimsy cloth under hot water and walks back into Sam's room. 

He finds Sam unmoved from his spot on his bed, looking worn and exhausted, paralyzed by his own trauma.

“Sammy, baby, can I touch you?” Dean asks, not wanting to make Sam uncomfortable or risk sending him into a panic attack.

Sam nods in approval, and Dean pushes him, gently, to the head of the bed. Dean quickly removes the soaked boxers from his husband, making a mental note to burn them later. He cleans Sam gently with expert hands, tossing the washcloth on top of the boxers. Both are definitely gonna be incinerated first chance he gets.

Dean runs a hand over Sam's face, leaning close to him, "So beautiful, Sammy. Always mine. Forever." He kisses Sam gently, waiting for his reaction before he continues.

Sam gasps at the familiar taste, and the home and safety that accompanies it, pulling Dean in closer, “Make me forget everything about her; what her body feels like, what it feels like to be with anyone but you, all of it. Please.” 

"Absolutely," Dean whispers vehemently against Sam's parted lips. He kisses down Sam's jawline, sucking and nipping at his neck, hands gently passing down Sammy's chest. Sam pushes his body into Dean's, craving the smooth hard body above him, needing to be as close as humanly possible to his husband, and soulmate. Watching as Dean makes his way down his chest, tongue darting out and licking at his nipple. Sam arches his back into the sensation, desperate for more, his body practically demanding it. Dean, of course, understands completely, neither of them ever needing words to communicate, and immediately complies, repeating the action on the other side.

Dean pulls away from Sam long enough to pull his own shirt over his head. He quickly finds Sam's mouth with his, kissing him deep and slow, grinding their hips together. Dean's jeans rub against Sam's growing erection, making him desperate for friction. Dean works his belt off and shimmies out of his pants and boxers, his lips never leaving Sam's soft, juicy ones.

“All you gotta do is lay back and enjoy this. I'll take good care of you, baby.” Dean whispers, grabbing the bottle of lube on the nightstand.

He kisses down Sam's stomach, nipping at his perfect hips, parting his thighs to get inside. Dean lifts Sam's hips, resting them on his thighs. Popping the cap on the lube, squeezing out enough to evenly coat his fingers, and slides one finger inside of Sam. The way Sam clenches makes him freeze, watching for signs of discomfort before getting the go-ahead to add a second finger.

“That's it, Sammy, just close your eyes and relax. Let me take care of you,” Dean says as he adds a third finger.

Sam does as Dean requests, but as soon as his eyes are shut, there she is, naked and smiling, climbing on top of him, her hands all over him. Sam tries to force the image out of his head, tries to make himself remember that he’s with Dean, that she isn't real, or here with them. Her cruel laugh taunts him, a laugh that can only be rivaled by Lucifer's. 

Sam squeezes his eyes shut tightly, but she’s still there, and isn't going away, and finally, he can't take it anymore.

"STOP!" Sam cries out, shaking uncontrollably as his eyes fly open, a very concerned Dean the first thing he sees.

“Sammy, what's wrong? Did I hurt you, baby?” Dean asks gently, with a note of worry as he slowly pulls his fingers free of his husband's body.

"I'm sorry, Dean. I can't close my eyes. She's all I can see.” Sam shivers as Dean lays kisses on his neck.

“Just watch me.” Dean wraps Sam's legs around his waist, lines his cock up with the rim of Sam's entrance and pushes inside.

The burn of the intrusion is nothing new to Sam; if anything, he loves it, can't get enough of feeling his body stretch to accommodate Dean's girth. He nods at his husband, letting him know it’s ok to continue. Dean wastes no time sliding deeper into Sam's tight body. “Sammy,” he moans, bowing his head and kissing Sam deeply.

Dean moves his hips in slow circles, grinding their bodies together, hitting that sweet spot inside Sam that makes his legs quiver. Sam rocks his body with Dean's, finding their perfect rhythm. They never look away from each other, the unwavering love shown in Dean's gaze always something Sam new to be true.

"That's it. Just let yourself go. Come for me, baby." Dean whispers, feeling Sam's orgasm  
approaching.

Sam moans, feeling his entire body ignite with renewed life, his cock shooting cum all over their abdomens. Dean's thrusts speed up only slightly as he works towards his own release, filling Sam with his cum. Dean pumps his hips, rocking gently until he’s too sensitive to continue. He gently pulls out and lays down beside Sam, pulling him into his arms, wrapping around his waist and settling his hands on Sam's backside.

"I love you so much, Sammy. Nothing, no ONE, will change what you mean to me, or come between us. Ever. I swear to you, Sammy, I will not lose you. Not to that, not to her, just not, period. We've been through so much, and we will get through this. I made a vow, and I won't let anyone make me break it, or the man I made it to.”

Sam lets the words lull him into finally letting himself relax. This, right here, is what he ached for when he'd been trapped in that godforsaken basement. So many times, since they'd been married, they'd actually blown the day off, in favor of just laying here, holding each other close. A ritual he never thought he'd miss so much, until it was gone. Now, he can't even imagine wanting to leave Dean's warm embrace. 

The thought makes him panic slightly, until a light squeeze settles him down, keeping him here in reality, with his husband and soulmate. Slowly, Sam lets himself drift off. This wasn't over, not by a long shot, but for now, he lets himself enjoy the brief resting period his mind is granting him. Before he falls asleep, he mumbles out one last,

“G’night...D’n.”


End file.
